Memories
by JacksonMW
Summary: Fifty has no real memories of a past life. Sometimes there's a family, other times something else. When elements of his past come back to haunt him, he has no one to turn to. Evil forces will lead him on a path of self destruction if he cannot gain control and find people he can trust. But who can be trust someone who's actions can be influenced by anyone with one simple phrase?
1. Prologue

Prologue

The sun rose over the city skyline, freeing it from the cold embrace of night. Slowly, it's rejuvenating warmth poured into the cities blocks and the homes of its people. With this new morning, however, came a cold a foreboding wind. While gentle in force, the bitterness of the cold harbored a sense of scheming and tragedy.

From a top his towering skyscraper, David Xanatos peered out from his office window as the rays of the sun shone through his window. He heard a knock on his door and pressed a small red button fixated upon his desk, granting the knocker entrance.

"Good morning Mr. Xanatos," said Owen Brunett, Xanatos's right hand man. He was holding a silver tray decorated with breakfast pastries and a large coffee pot.

"Quite an uneventful night, wouldn't you agree," Xanatos inquired as he stared coldly out of the window.

"Indeed sir. In fact, this whole week has been somewhat uneventful," Owen replied as he poured some of the coffee into Xanatos's mug.

"Yes, it has been," Xanatos replied. He turned around and picked up the mug in his right hand. Turning back towards the city, he took a sip of the warm beverage. "When was the last time we've heard from our friends?"

"Almost two weeks now, Mr. Xanatos," Owen replied.

Xanatos mulled his twisted thoughts over in his mind for a few minutes before saying, "Time to make them remember why it's always a good idea to keep your enemies closer than your friends. Owen, fetch me Project Sleeper's files please."

"Of course," Owen replied.

Owen walked over to the large video monitor set up to the right of Xanatos's desk. The monitor, as well as being a computer, had a space for the more sensitive documents that were too valuable to be stored on a hard drive. Owen scanned the rows of filing cabinets until he found the row set aside for Project Sleeper.

"Which of the documents do you want sir," Owen asked.

"Bring me the subject files," Xanatos replied.

Owen nodded and opened up one of the containers on the cabinet. He sifted through the tabs until he found the Subject file. The file was a simple manila folder that was stamped with TOP SECRET on every space imaginable. Reaching in, he pulled this rather slim file out from the others and closed the cabinet. Owen walked back to the desk and placed the file in front of Xanatos's chair.

Turning away from the window, Xanatos pulled out his desk chair and sat down. He set his coffee mug off to the side and opened the file.

"Hm, I remember it being larger than this," Xanatos smirked.

"Sadly, with all the years it's been, 40 of the Subjects have either died or just disappeared. Only 10 remain," Owen said coldly.

"Are there any that live in New York," Xanatos asked.

Owen walked behind the desk and flipped the pages over to the last three.

As Xanatos examined them, Owen said, "These are the three that live within the city, Subjects 48, 49, and 50. The first two are, how should I put it, physically unfit for any task you have in mind."

"And Subject 50," Xanatos asked.

"50 is the best choice. From what I've gathered, he is a 'free runner'. That means he's one of those enthusiastic teenagers who insist on running across rooftops and such to get to places faster. 50 has kept up a physical and mental build that will fit your needs perfectly."

Xanatos stared at 50's picture and said, "Yes, he will do nicely. We'll wait until nightfall to administer the test. Find out where he does reside and arrange for a 'present' to be dropped off for dear old Mr. 50."

"Yes sir," Owen acknowledged.

**Welcome Gargoyle fans! This is my first attempt at writing anything related to the Gargoyle's series. I've recently discovered this show and I've fallen head over heels for it. So what do I naturally do, write a story with it! I've decided to take a break from the novel I'm working on to return to the world of Fan Fictions.**

**FYI: This story takes place after "Upgrade" (Season 2 Episode 18). Also, Would you Kindly, the phrase in the description, does come from Bioshock. Those who've played can guess its use in the story :)**

**DISCLAMIER: Of course, I own none of this fantastic world except for my OC. All other items belong to Greg Weisman and Disney respectively.**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Get back here," a museum guard yelled.

Three people darted around a corner inside the Museum of Natural History as the overweight security guard struggled to keep up. Museum patrons moved out of the way as the trio ran down the main hall. Golden sunshine poured out of the decorative windows that ran on the trio's left side; the sun was almost at its highest point. One if the trio, a young man with dirty blonde hair and glowing blue eyes, decided to show off some of his moves.

He took notice of a large amount of pipes exposed on the ceiling. These pipes formed an uneven set of monkey bars in his mind. Still keeping pace with the other two, the young man moved over to the wall on his right, running his gloved hand across the stone bricks. Feeling that the wall had enough traction, he leaned a little to his left, bringing his legs up and allowing him to run along the wall.

Loosing momentum fast, he used his strong leg muscles to propel himself upward and grab onto one of the pipes. This was a pretty impressive feat, given that the young man is only five feet and ten inches. Keeping up with his new found momentum, the young man began to swing across the ceiling like a monkey. The two other people looked up and couldn't help but chuckle as they watched the young man swing along the pipes like a monkey.

The trio turned another corner into a hallway with a large open window at the end. The young man swung over onto a pipe and then swung down onto the ground feet first. He rolled as to absorb any force that would've come with the landing, stumbling as he got back to his feet and maintained pace with the other two. One of the trio, a large male, reached the window first. He immediately hoisted himself down onto the awaiting street.

The young man and the other member of the trio, a girl, reached the window at the same time. Being the gentleman that he is, the young man helped the girl get onto the street. With those two down on the street, the young man looked back down the hall and now saw two security guards, one of which was gaining on him. Quickly, he climbed out of the window with his back to the street and then lowered himself off the small ledge that was underneath it.

As the trio ran down the block away from the museum, the more fit security guard yelled, "Stay outta here you damn hoodlums!"

At a safe distance away from the building, the trio stopped to catch their breath.

"Well that was fun," the young man said as he stretched his arms. "I'm Fifty by the way."

Fifty extended his hand, hoping that one of them would shake it. Both looked up at Fifty, initially with smiles on their faces. However, the smiles immediately turned sour when they noticed Fifty's abnormal eyes and scars that seemed to form the number 50. His eyes, while colored like any average human, gave off an eerie blue glow. Even in the day time, this glow was very apparent. The scare though looked self inflicted rather than placed there. Without even speaking to Fifty, the two walked away.

Slightly angered, Fifty gave them both the middle finger before sitting down on a nearby bench.

_Just when you think you meet some cool people_, he thought to himself as he sat on the bench and watched as the people and cars drove by. He had met those fellow free runners while messing around in Central Park. They noticed him and asked if he'd like to go on a run with them. Naturally, he said yes and they immediately took off running. The couple must not have taken notice of Fifty's eyes or scars back in Central Park.

Still watching the cars drive by, Fifty pulled back his black track jacket's sleeve and looked at his digital watch

_Crap_, he exclaimed, _I'm late for work!_

With haste, Fifty got up from the bench and walked out to the curb. Waving his hands, he flagged down a taxi, which screeched to a halt. The driver unlocked the door and Fifty climbed in, immediately letting the driver know where to take him.

* * *

The cab pulled up in front of Cafe Du'Bois, a French style cafe owned by Martin Du'Bois. Before getting out, Fifty pulled out a twenty dollar bill and told the driver to keep the change. Fifty opened the cab's door and stepped out on the curb. He quickly shut it and then briskly walked into the Cafe, passing by two people sitting in the outside eating area.

The cafe is comfortable small. The main eating area is filled with ten tables, each with four places, and four tables in the outdoor area, each with two chairs. The tables on the inside sit upon a light brown tile floor that changes to a simple white tile past the service counter and pastries display case. The two walls that are bordering the other buildings on each side of the Cafe are decorated with paintings of France. Two large windows and a glass door occupy the wall that faces the street. The innermost wall hosts two bathrooms for the patrons, a service counter, and a medium sized display case that showcases some of the dishes. Above the service counter is a chalk board menu suspended by two chains that are hooked into the ceiling. On the ceiling are four fans, each placed in a square pattern around the cafe as to provide sufficient cooling in the summer time.

Several patrons were sitting inside. As Fifty walked down the center of the cafe, he couldn't help but notice that most of them stared at him. He liked to think that they were judging him for wearing such casual clothing, but that was never the case. It was always the eye's and the scars. Fifty tried to ignore their stares, resisting the urge to punch some of them or simply insult them. He just smiled and walked back behind the service counter, pulling out a white apron. He tied the apron around his waist and poked his head through a small window that food was sent through.

"You're late boy," yelled a gruff voice from inside the kitchen.

"It's only ten minutes Mr. Du'Bois," Fifty replied.

"Don't back talk me boy," Martin yelled as he walked up to the window.

Martin was a gruff man. His rather "big" composure didn't help soften his mean personality. His black beady eyes poked through the fatty wrinkles that covered his face. Martin's upper lip was occupied by a bushy mustache. He was also bald, which meant that he didn't need to wear any sort of hair net in the kitchen.

Fifty moved his head out of the window, allowing Martin to push two plates through.

"Take these two crepe's to the couple outside," Martin ordered.

His musty and stink riddled breath hit Fifty like a wall. He could barely utter a "Yes sir" for he was gagging on Martin's breath.

Fifty walked out from behind the service counter and back through the sea of stares. Once he reached the outside, Fifty vented his contempt in a huff and put on his "friendly" attitude. As he approached the two patrons sitting outside, one a female and one male, he caught wind of their little conversation.

"Thing's have been quite for the past few nights, " said the male, who had ginger hair and wore a tan trench coat. "Aren't your friends growing restless?"

"Nah," said the woman, who wore a red blazer with blue jeans. "In fact, I think they're enjoying the down time. Well, at some of them are."

The male was about to say something when he noticed Fifty approaching.

"Here you are you two," Fifty smiled. He walked over to where he was parallel with the center of the table. He bent down and placed the two plates on the table. Casually, he glanced over at the woman, who, took immediate notice of his eyes and scars.

Fifty could sense her discomfort and said, "Oh, I'm sorry."

The woman, seeing that her staring upset Fifty, replied, "No, it's my fault for staring."

As Fifty stood up straight, the male took a look at his eyes and asked, "Very interesting. Is it a birth defect?"

"Uh, I couldn't be the one to tell you. I don't even know myself," Fifty replied. "Same with the scars too. I'm Fifty by the way."

"Elisa Maza, NYPD," the woman said.

"Matt Bluestone, NYPD," the male said. "Fifty is an interesting name. How'd you get it?"

Fifty shrugged and said, "Once again, it's a mystery to all."

Elisa laughed and said, "Well aren't you a man of mystery."

Pulling up a chair and casually sitting in it, Fifty chuckled and said, "Mystery is what makes people interesting. Without it, we'd be telling everyone our dirtiest secrets. I think it's more fun to find them out for yourselves rather than have someone tell them."

Matt took a piece of his crepe on his fork and said while chewing, "I like you. You've got a simple view of life. Most people in this town have too complicated views or too simple ones."

"So where ya from Fifty," Elisa asked. "You don't seem like a native, if you catch my drift."

"Now that I can tell you," Fifty replied. "I come from a suburb outside of Memphis, Tennessee. Spent most of my life living there until I came up to the Big Apple to attend college."

"What'd you study," Elisa asked as she took a bite of the crepe.

When Elisa asked this, some part of Fifty wanted to tell her Biomedical Engineering, but some other part, one that seemed small and insignificant screamed to tell her that he didn't attend college. However, Fifty's main mind shut out that small voice and he said, "Biomedical Engineering."

Elisa nodded as she took one last bite of her crepe. She then took a look at her watch and said, "Well it's been fun chatting with you Fifty, but duty calls."

The three of them got up at the same time. Fifty pushed his chair back over to the original table and said, "Think I'd see you again sometime? The both of you, I mean."

"I have no doubts about that," Elisa said as she walked over to her red classic sports car.

Fifty watched as she and Matt climbed into the car. He waved to them as they drove off and then headed back into the Cafe. The stares of the people returned, but it didn't bother him. He finally had met people who seemed to accept him for who he is.

**So here it is! Chapter 1! What's funny is that this chapter is very different from the rough draft I wrote for it. 95% of it was changed from the original draft as I typed.**

**Anyways, review (good or bad, I can take it) and maybe Favorite it if you're feeling extra loving.**

**DISCLAIMER: Gargoyles and it's characters is the property of Greg Weisman and Disney. I own nothing except my OC and the plot for the Fan Fiction.**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The sun was setting over the New York skyline. Darkness began to creep back into the city. Along with the darkness came the wind, which was as potent as ever.

"I DON'T EVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE AROUND HERE EVER AGAIN," Martin yelled from inside the Cafe.

Fifty stormed out of the front door, fuming with anger. In his blind rage, he picked up a metal trash can from the curb and tossed it into one of the Cafe's windows. Glass shattered as the can spilled its contents into the Cafe and knocked over several chairs. People who were eating inside the Cafe and those who were walking by on the street gasped as they watched Fifty run out into the street, dodging cars and trucks.

Reaching the other side of the six lane street, Fifty stared up a fifteen story apartment building built out of plain red bricks of varying shades, looking for an outcropping to grab onto. Seeing the best one available, a small window ledge a few feet off the ground, Fifty bent his knees and jumped up. With little struggle, he managed to grab onto the ledge and hoist the lower part of his body up. Climbing this building would be easy for him; Fifty's climbed harder ones before. Each of the ledge's for windows were parallel to each other on each story, so in a way, it was like a ladder.

Before moving forward, Fifty convinced the rational part of his mind that this was just a ladder. This technique often helps Fifty while climbing buildings or free running in general. Staring back up the building, Fifty stretched out his right arm and began the long climb up to the top. Pedestrians, most of whom had continued to gawk at Fifty even after he broke the window, pointed at him as he ever so slowly passed by each story.

Nearing the top of the apartment building, Fifty stared down at the street below. He began to feel his legs turning to jelly as his eyes widened. Not wishing to fall and end up dead, he quickly hoisted himself up onto the roof of the building. Fifty rolled onto his back, breathing a sigh of relief. The echo of a police siren began to fill the city blocks.

Wanting to avoid any entanglements with the NYPD, Fifty sat up quickly and examined his surroundings. To his surprise, this apartment building had a very impressive view of the city. In front of him, Fifty could see the World Trade Center and its iconic Twin Towers. A little bit in front of the World Trade Center was the Eyrie Building, a massive skyscraper constructed by David Xanatos in late 1994. Fifty has heard rumors that the building is topped with an ancient castle from Scotland. Of course, he's never been to the top of the building to see for himself. One day he plans on climbing all the way to the top.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Fifty scanned the city skyline, getting his bearings to see where he needed to go. Off a ways to his right was the Empire State Building. Fifty turned back towards his left, which was in the direction of Central Park and Harlem. Ready to head home, Fifty was about to start running when he heard the sounds of a helicopter approaching.

_Is it a police chopper,_ Fifty thought as he scanned the skyline for any signs of it.

Sure enough, Fifty saw a helicopter; however, it didn't look anything like a police chopper. This helicopter had a sleeker design to it. It wasn't the traditional white and blue colors of the NYPD. Instead, it had a red and black color scheme to it. The blade's were strange as well; they weren't they long versions on most helicopters. This helicopter seemed to have blade's that were half the size of normal ones.

This strange helicopter was flying right towards Fifty, who stood watching it as it slowed its approach. The helicopter, reaching where Fifty was, hovered over the rooftop. Gravel and other items on the roof were caught in the small wind current the rotating blades created, causing them to blow around Fifty. Staring up at the helicopter, Fifty saw one of its side doors open. Someone dropped a package out of the open door and then closed it quickly. When the package hit the gravel rooftop, the helicopter gained altitude and flew back towards the Eyrie Building.

Fifty watched the helicopter fly away before turning his gaze on the mysterious package. The package was wrapped in brown paper and tied together with thin string. Attached to the top of it was a sealed envelope. Intrigued, Fifty walked over to the package and knelt down next to it. He freed the envelope from the string and inspected it.

_Hmm, no return address,_ he thought. _To open or not to open, that is the question._

Part of him wanted to open this mysterious envelope and package, but his more rational side told him to leave it and continue on his way. However, Fifty is an adventurous person, so he naturally chose to follow his more daring side.

Taking a deep breath, Fifty turned the envelope over onto the side where it was sealed. Running his fingers under the crease, he broke through the glue that held it closed and opened it up.

* * *

Martin Du'Bois walked out of the back door to his Cafe. A single light was positioned above the metal door, but it provided little illumination to the alley way, which was enveloped in a cold darkness.

"Lousy punk," Martin grumbled as he locked the back door. "I'll teach him a lesson or two if I ever get my hands on him."

With the back door locked behind him, Martin climbed down a single step and began to walk down the dark alley towards his parked car. As he walked, a cold wind blew around him, making him place his hands in his coat pockets and shiver slightly.

"Damn cold," he complained. "It was supposed to be fifty degrees tonight, not twenty."

Martin spit on the ground as to curse the cold weather and continued walking along the alley. However, as he continued, he began to get a funny feeling. It was the type of feeling you get when you're not alone and when someone's watching you. Turning around, Martin saw a lone figure standing close to the little light near the back door of his Cafe.

The figure was dressed in all black from head to toe. However, his eye's weren't covered. The figure's eyes were glowing a bright blue that was very clear and slightly menacing in the darkness.

"Is that you kid," Martin growled. "I told you to never show your face to me ever again or else!"

The figure remained silent, staring coldly at Martin, and then began to move towards the fat man. He walked at a slow yet brisk pace, kind of like how a serial killer walks in horror movies.

Martin began to feel threatened and reached into his coat pocket, placing his hand on a holstered Model 351PD handgun.

"I'm warning you boy," he exclaimed as the figure continued to approach.

With the figure five feet away, Martin pulled out his handgun and fired a warning shot into the air. This didn't deter the figure though, for he continued his approach. Seeing no other alternative, Martin aimed the handgun and the figure's right shoulder and pulled the trigger.

A shot went off, but it didn't even come close to hitting the figure. Martin was in shock because he had just seen the figure dodge the bullet like it was nothing. He fired two more shots, but the figure dodged them too. He moved so fast that Martin's eye could barely keep track. Martin was about to fire a third shot, but the figure lunged at Martin and grasped Martin's shooting wrist in his right hand.

Martin clenched his face as he tried to wrestle his hand free from the figure's grip. However, the figure tightened his iron grip. The sound of bone's cracking echoed through the empty alley way along with Martin screaming in pain. With his wrist pretty much shattered, Martin dropped the handgun, the clank it made echoing as well.

Staring Martin in the eyes, the figure thrust his fist into Martin's right side. The sound of bones cracking intensified as Martin wheezed from the impact of the punch. The figure release his grip from Martin's wrist, but didn't let the fat man go. Placing both his hands on Martin's chubby head, the figure pulled it back and slammed it into the closest wall to them. Part of the brick cracked as the figure threw Martin up against the other wall opposite them.

With his faced bloodied and bruised, Martin watched as the figure walked over to him and knelt next to him. The figure, in a demented sort of way, tilted his head as he stared at Martin. The blue glow from the figure's eyes illuminated Martin's cuts and bruises. Reaching into Martin's coat pocket, the figure pulled out a cell phone and dialed 911.

"911...Yes I'd like to report a gang related mugging in the alley way behind Cafe Du'Bois...Thank you," the figure said into the phone before hanging up.

When the figure hung up, he clenched the phone in his hands and squeezed until there was a fizzle found. Releasing his grip, the figure sprinkled the crushed bits of the phone on the ground before sitting up. The figure stood over Martin's whimpering form and reached into his pocket, pulling out a red bandana.

The red bandana was the call sign of a well-known gang in this area of New York. Whenever they mugged or murdered someone, they left a red bandana on the body. The figure nonchalantly dropped the red bandana on Martin's lap and walked away, whistling as he went.

**Sorry for the shorter Chapter. I went through three different versions of it before I finally came out with one I liked. I originally planned to have "The Figure" kill Martin, but I felt that would be too dark. Instead, I opted for a good old fashioned mugging!**

**The next Chapter or the one after it will see the introduction of Fifty to the Gargoyles! Feel free to review, favorite, or follow the story.**

**Also, big shout out to ThatGuyWhoLikesToWriteStuff for giving me some writing tips and showing me some support. You should also check out his Gargoyles Fan Fiction called _Gargoyles: Attack of the Moonstalkers_.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Gargoyles. It belongs to Greg Weisman and Disney. All I own is my characters and the plot of the story. **


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Xanatos thrust his fist into a hard foam practice dummy. Reeling back his fist, he swung his right leg around, round house kicking the dummy directly under its right armpit. He then backed a few feet away from the dummy before running at it. Before getting too close to the dummy, Xanatos jumped, extending his right leg. His leg hit the dummy square in the jaw, knocking it over and back a few inches. Xanatos landed on his feet and dusted off his karate outfit.

"Excellent jump kick Mr. Xanatos," Owen said as he stood in the doorway of the gymnasium clapping.

Xanatos turned to face Owen and said, "I didn't see you there Owen. Have any news for me?"

As Owen entered the gym, Xanatos walked over to a small bench and picked up a bottle of water he had placed on it, taking several large gulps. Owen picked up a remote from the bench and pointed it at a wall mounted TV to their right.

"It seems your little test with Subject 50 has made the afternoon news," Owen explained as he tuned to the local news channel.

A young woman, appearing to be in her mid thirties, sat at the news desk. She held a stack of white papers in her hand.

"Last night, a midtown resident known as Martin Du'Bois, the owner and operator of Cafe Du'Bois, was brutally mugged in the alley behind his cafe," the woman explained as she stared into the camera. "NYPD Officers were called to the scene by an unknown individual. They found Martin laying up against a wall unconscious with his face severely damaged. Doctors at Manhattan General have said that despite the extensive facial reconstruction surgery required, Martin is expected to make a full recovery. The NYPD suspects the attack was orchestrated by the Blood Roses, a rising street gang in the Midtown area. At the crime scene, police found a red bandana on Martin. The bandana, our sources tell us, is the call sign for the Blood Roses. If you have any information as to who the attacker may have been, you may call the 23rd Precinct toil free at 1-800-CRIMEREPORT."

When the newscaster moved onto another story, Owen turned off the TV and set the remote down.

"I don't remember you giving Subject Fifty any red bandana," Owen stated.

Xanatos sat down on the bench and said, "I didn't. He must've thought of that after I supplied the instructions."

"Wouldn't it be dangerous to have these subjects that much free will while triggered," Owen asked, slightly concerned about the safety of using Fifty.

"Without any free will, the subjects would never be able to complete any task. The free will is required for problem solving and finding solutions to anything that might hamper their prime directives. But the free will only goes so far. Once triggered, they can never deter from the task until one of three things happens: I cancel the order, they complete the task, or the subject is terminated."

Owen pondered what Xanatos had said and then stated," Goliath and the others have rarely killed a human being. If they were to get their hands on Subject Fifty, they would most likely turn him over to the authorities, which would led them back to you."

Xanatos chuckled and said, "Don't worry Owen. Everything's already been taken into account. If Subject Fifty were to be captured, I would find a way to terminate the order. Since the subjects aren't aware of what they are doing when triggered, he'll have no memory of carrying out the order and therefore couldn't testify properly in the courts.

Xanatos pulled up his sleeves and took a glance at his watch, noticing it was only an hour before sunset.

"Time to imitate the plan."

* * *

Darkness surrounded Fifty. He floated around in a completely empty space, his body laying flat like he was on a bed. Fifty opened his eyes and looked around the darkness.

_Am I dreaming, _he thought to himself as he turned his body around, looking for anything in the darkness.

His voice echoed through the void. As he rotated his body around, Fifty found the darkness change into a star field. Small little lights zoomed past him as he faced forward. As the lights moved faster, they began to meld together, forming into a thick smoke. From within the smoke, strange sounds began to pulse against Fifty's ear drum. Footsteps, talking, and gunshots echoed through the smoke as Fifty looked around for the source of them. The smoke began to morph into an image. As the image formed, it began to move, like a movie being projected onto the thick wall of smoke. In this movie, Fifty saw a figure clad in black with glowing blue eyes attack a man that looked like Martin.

Before Fifty could make out anything else in this image, it began to become twisted and distorted. The image began to disintegrate and in its place, Fifty saw a man standing in the distorted image. This man had a strange and eerie aura about him. He was wearing all black and his eye's had a red glow to them, much like Fifty's own.

For some unexplained reason, fear began to pump through Fifty's body as he watched the man begin to walk towards him. He tried to move his body, but it was suddenly locked in place, forcing him to watch as the man came ever so closer.

Fifty awoke on a cot, drenched in sweat. His eyes darted around the room as he looked for the man. However, it was his normal room; there wasn't any sign of the man. Breathing a sigh of relief, Fifty turned to his left to get out of his bed. When he turned his head, Fifty found himself face to face with the red-eyed man, who's head was tilted and mouth stretched into an unnatural smile which showed pointed white teeth.

Screaming at the top of his lungs, Fifty awoke, lying in a pile of trash next to a dumpster. Sweat had drenched every inch of his body, making the coat, shirt, and pants he was wearing stick to his body. He immediately shot up from the pile of trash and frantically looked around. Fifty clutched his chest, feeling his heart beating a mile a minute. As he looked around the small alley way that the trash pile was in, he noticed the golden rays of a setting sun streaking over the New York skyline.

Still looking around, Fifty pinched himself to make sure he wasn't still dreaming. He let out a small yelp and then began to think about the image he saw in his dream.

_Was that me mugging Martin_ he thought. _I don't remember doing anything like that last night_.

Not wanting to dwell on those thoughts, Fifty dusted off the black trench coat he was wearing and walked out of the alley way. The alley led out onto a street corner that was unfamiliar to Fifty. Before looking at any street sign, Fifty noticed a familiar red sports car parked outside of the 23rd Precinct building.

_Elisa, _he thought. _Maybes he could give me a ride._

Not wishing to cross the busy street from where he was currently, Fifty headed down the street to his right and arrived at a crosswalk. The crossing symbol was still red, so Fifty stood among the group of people waiting to cross. Some of the people standing next to him scooted over when they noticed his scars and his eyes. Fifty glared at them and then continued to wait for the crossing symbol to turn green.

When it turned green, the crowd of people walked onto the street. Half way across the street, Fifty felt someone thrust their palm into his chest, leaving behind a plain white envelope. Confused, Fifty looked around the crowd for anyone that looked like they might've giving him the envelope. However, Fifty was pushed along by the crowd and arrived on the other side of the street.

Getting out of the bustling crowd, Fifty went over to a store front and leaned up against the glass. He turned the envelope over and read the phrase written on it

_Would you kindly open the envelope and read the paper that's inside?_

* * *

"Goliath," a voiced exclaimed. "What happened."

"This Human attacked us and injured Lexington," a deeper and more brooding voice stated.

Another voice, more high pitched, grunted and said, "It's fine. Nothing a good day's sleep won't fix."

Fifty was confused as to what was happening. He was surrounded by the darkness again, yet this time he could hear and feel most everything but couldn't move a muscle, not even his eyelids. This began to fill his mind with terror as he tried desperately to move his body. Nothing seemed to respond; all he could do was listen.

He felt and heard a thud and assumed he had been set down somewhere.

"Here's a pair of Elisa's handcuffs," a more lighthearted yet still brooding voice said.

_Elisa? Have I been arrested, _Fifty thought.

"Thank you Broadway," the deep voice said.

The sound of handcuffs linking together echoed through the darkness.

"Why hasn't the lad said anything," a voice with a Scottish accent said.

The deep voice said, "He took a very nasty fall when trying to outrun us. The boy is out cold, but not dead.

Fifty heard the sound of a dog growling and a warm, hot breath on his face.

"Easy Bronx," the voice Fifty had first heard said. "I still find it funny that Human's try to outrun us.

The high pitched voice said, "This Human was different. He moved rather quick and very fluent. If Goliath hadn't thrown a brick which caused him to fall, we would've lost him."

_Brick, fall? The last thing I remember is opening the envelope, _Fifty thought.

Suddenly, the same smoke from before began to creep into the darkness, surrounding Fifty. It drowned out all of his outside senses, muffling the voices he heard around him. He tried moving again, but his body was still locked in place. In front of him, the smoke began to swirl into another vision.

The vision was clearly New York in the night time. It showed a sort of third person perspective, with the "camera" positioned behind someone dressed in black. As Fifty watched the vision with curiosity, he saw the person turn around slightly, revealing glowing blue eyes.

_Is that me, _Fifty thought.

The person turned back around and knelt down. Fifty heard the sound of a box opening followed by the cocking of a gun. The person then got back up and was now holding a hunting rifle.

The "camera" then panned upward, showing a full moon. Plastered against its glow, Fifty saw two winged creature flying through the night sky. At first he thought they were bats. However, as he watched them fly, Fifty realized they were something entirely different. A gunshot pierced the night sky as Fifty saw one of the creatures get hit by the bullet. The two winged creatures turned their gaze on the person.

At this point, the "camera" switched to a top-down view, kind of like a police chase that would be shown on TV. Fifty watched as the person ran across the rooftops, trying to lose the winged creatures. The figure was moving with surprising speeds, not losing any momentum as he hoped over jumped over vents and any other obstacles in his way. The creature's couldn't keep up with the person, who had just made a jump across a rather large gap between two buildings.

The view of the vision switched into the perspective of the person. The building he was jumping to was at least four or five feet below him. Making this landing would've been easy, but Fifty felt a sharp and sudden pain hit the persons back. He watched as the person faltered mid jump and plummeted face first into the gravel rooftop below.

The smoke began to clear. Fifty tried looking around but was still unable to do so. Maniacal laughter echoed around him as his head still faced forward. Fifty watched as the same red-eyed man from before materialized out of the darkness.

"Freedom at last," the man laughed.

The man then lunged across the void, arms outstretched, towards Fifty. This scared Fifty right back into consciousness. His hearing and other senses began to return to him.

"Hey, wake up," the first voice called.

Slowly, Fifty opened his eyes and saw six monsters staring back at him.

**Now we're getting into the good stuff! Please review and favorite if you are feeling like being awesome**

**DISCLAIMER: I only own my OC and the plot of the story. Everything else belongs to Greg Weisman and Disney.**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Cold water splashed on his face, causing him to wake up completely. Startled, Fifty tried to stand up or move, but found that his hands were handcuffed around a wooden post. His eyes darted around the room as he hyperventilated. Once again, the strange man was nowhere to be seen. As his eyes still darted around the room, Fifty took note of his surroundings. The first thing he guessed was that he was in a clock tower. On each of the four walls were large illuminated clock faces. Each of the two hands of the clocks were connected to the main internal mechanism by a rotating metal pole.

The ceiling of the clock tower was rather tall, with arches coming out from the four corners. The only windows in the whole tower were located near the top of it. Fifty was tied up in the center of the tower. Off to his left, he could see a small kitchen complete with a fridge, stove, table, and a few cabinets. Next to the kitchen was a wooden box with a small screen TV on top of it. In front of the TV was a tattered brown recliner. A ways to the right, Fifty could see a series of steps that led up to one of the clock faces.

Fifty then turned his head back towards the six monstrous and demonic looking creatures. Each of the creatures were different sizes and colors. Five of them were bipedal, standing on large and powerful legs. The same five wore plain loin cloths around their lower regions. These loin cloths were held up by leather belts with brass buckles. These five bipedal creatures also had wings, but one of them had a different set.

The smallest of the creatures, whose skin was colored khaki and was roughly the same height as Fifty, had wings that resembled that of a flying squirrels. In between the wing membrane were small fingerless appendages located halfway between its waist and arms. This creature had large, puppy dog like eyes and large, pointed ears to complement them. It was also the one that was truly bald; it didn't have any sort of horns.

Standing next to the small creature was a slightly larger one, maybe five or so inches taller than Fifty, crimson colored creature. Instead of a normal mouth like the others, this creature had a beak that resembled a birds. However, just by looking at it, Fifty could tell that this beak was softer than a bird's. A top its head were two curved horns and rather long white hair. This creature had its wings caped over its shoulders, along with the three others.

Behind the beaked creature was a taller, maybe seven or so inches than Fifty, bluish green creature. Like the small one, this creature was bald, but had small spines running along the center of his head. This creature was a lot chubbier than the others and had fish tail like ears, unlike the others who had pointed ears.

Off to the left of Fifty was the only four legged creature of the group. This beast looked like it could be a dog, however it was much more demonic. It's eyes were a solid white, unlike the others who had black pupils. Like the chubby one, it had fish tail like ears. The beast's mouth was open, revealing rows of sharp white teeth.

Next to the beast was easily the eldest of the group. The beard the creature had was a dead giveaway. It was colored a dull white, which complimented it's beige colored skin well. Unlike the other creatures, this one actually wore a leather jerkin and trousers. It's left eye was also discolored, giving it a yellow hue. A scar ran through it as well. It was the same height as the chubby one

Finally, standing in the middle of the group was the largest creature. This one, colored a pale blue with jet black hair, was easily the tallest of the creatures. standing close to seven feet. He stood with his arms crossed, staring down at Fifty. His brow was furrowed, and held three small horns on each side.

Fifty began to panic as he stared at these demonic creatures.

Hyperventilating, Fifty exclaimed, "Where am I!? Who are you!?" He began to struggle even more, causing the handcuffs to rub against his skin and cut into it.

"Easy lad," the elderly creature said. "We aren't going to hurt ye anymore."

The beaked creature added, "Well, not unless we have to."

Fifty calmed himself. It eased him to know that these weren't just mindless creatures and that they could at least speak. However, he continued to struggle, trying to wiggle his hands out of the metal handcuffs. These creatures, though, had made them too tight. His constant struggling resulted in blood being drawn and causing it to drip to the floor.

The taller creature had noticed that Fifty had become more calm. Speaking in a deep baritone voice, the creature asked, "Why were you shooting at us Human?"

Memories of the vision Fifty had when he was unconscious flashed briefly through his mind. Everything that he had seen in that vision had actually happened.

_No, they couldn't have, _Fifty thought.

From within the dark recesses of his mind, Fifty heard a menacing voice that sounded much like the Jokers from that new Batman cartoon say, "Oh but they did, my friend. And we caused them."

Fifty shook his head in his mind, however, the motion carried over into the physical world, bringing on some disgruntled looks from the creatures.

"Listen kid," the chubby creature said, "Goliath and Lexington saw you shoot at them. There's no denying it."

_Yes my boy,_ the voice chuckled_, go on and tell them that you didn't shoot the small, wimpy little creature. Mahaps they shall let you free._

Fifty looked up at the creatures and said, "I didn't shoot anyone."

The beaked creature become agitated and said, "Didn't shoot anyone? Does this look like a scratch too you?!" The beaked creature was pointing at the small one, who Fifty assumed was the one called Lexington. His right shoulder was wrapped in a bandage that had blood seeping through the middle of it.

"You're only making it harder on yourself," Lexington said in a reedy voice. "Just tell us why."

Fifty shook his head and said, "I didn't shoot anyone."

"Your constant denial is pointless," the tall creature said. "Why do you think we brought you here if you didn't harm us? Now tell us why you did so."

The beast growled louder, showing off its teeth again.

"I don't remember doing anything of the sorts," Fifty exclaimed. "I've never shot or even held a gun in my entire life!"

_Wonderful lie my boy,_ the voice chuckled. _I believe they shall soon let you go!_

The beaked creature smirked and said, "Nice try kid. Now tell us the truth."

The elderly creature, who had remained quiet for most of the conversation, spoke up and said, "Perhaps the lad is suffering some sort of memory loss."

"Is such a thing even possible Hudson," the tall creature who Fifty assumed was Goliath asked.

"Aye, it is. That mugging victim is suffering something called am-nes-ia," the elderly creature to whom Fifty assumed was known as Hudson said.

Lexington walked over to a small bookcase and pulled out a Webster's dictionary. He flipped through the pages until he found the word amnesia. The beaked and chubby creature crowded around the book to read it's definition.

"Amnesia," Lexington recited, "loss of memory due usually to brain injury, shock, fatigue, repression, or illness; a gap in one's memory; the selective overlooking or ignoring of events or acts not favorable or useful to ones purpose or position."

"And he could be suffering from this," the beaked creature asked. "Or could he be faking it?"

Lexington closed the book and said, "It's hard to tell. He did take a pretty nasty fall after Goliath hit him with the brick."

"I don't like the sound of it," the chubby creature said. "What do you think of it Goliath?"

Goliath pondered the definition of the word and then said, "It is possible. However, we can make no mistakes here. Are you sure that this could be his aliment Hudson."

Hudson looked at Fifty and then said with confidence, "It is best to give the lad our trust."

Taking heed of Hudson's advice, Goliath nodded and walked over to Fifty, who was silent and still kneeling on the floor. He bent down, reaching his arms behind Fifty, and clutched the chain between the handcuffs. With little struggle, Goliath was able to break the chain off the handcuffs and then remove the two cuffs that were still tightened against Fifty's skin. Fifty moved his arms back in front of his body and examined them. Small cuts dotted his wrist; they still bleed a little, but not so much to need a band aid.

Finally able to stand up, Fifty began to get up when he felt a sharp pain shoot through his lower back. Along with the pain he felt his legs turn to jelly as he tried to stand up straight. He stumbled and would've fallen if Lexington and the chubby creature hadn't been there to catch him. The two supported Fifty on their shoulders, allowing him to stand. Fifty moved his right hand over his lower back and found a rather large bump off to the left of his spine.

"Thanks...Lexington, right," Fifty asked.

"That's right," Lexington replied with a smile.

"I'm Broadway by the way," the chubby creature said. "Sorry for giving you a hard time."

The beast, sensing the calm between the group, moved over to Fifty and sniffed him. Fifty noticed the beast was almost to his lower waist in height, adding to its dangerous and demonic appearance. However, when it had finished sniffing him, the beast began to act like a normal dog. It began to lick Fifty's free hand and bark. Fifty patted it on the head.

"Looks like Bronx has taken a liking to ye," Hudson said.

The beaked creature groaned and said, "Well isn't this all fine a dandy. Everyone's pals now. I hope you haven't forgotten that he could've killed you Lex."

"We haven't forgotten what this human has done Brooklyn," Goliath said with a stern tone.

"Well what are we going to do with him, " the beaked creature known as Brooklyn said. "Let him go?"

"Brooklyn does have a point," Broadway stated. "Are we going to watch him?"

Fifty listened in as they began to argue on what to do with him. He could slowly feel his anger boiling. None of them cared to ask what he'd want to be done

_Listen to them argue of you, _the voice cackled. _They think they can control you._

"Maybe Elisa can watch him," Lexington stated.

The mentioning of Elisa caught his attention, causing Fifty to bury his anger for now and listen in on the conversation. Fifty heard footsteps coming from the entrance to the clock tower. Looking past Hudson, Fifty saw Elisa Maza walk into the clock tower.

"Who can I watch," she asked as she walked towards the group.

"Elisa," Fifty said as he moved away from Lexington and Broadway, walking on his own at a slow and apparent hobble.

Elisa was surprised to find Fifty here. She ignored Goliath and walked over to Fifty.

"How'd you get here," she asked.

"I...can't remember," Fifty said. "They claim I shot at them."

"He did shoot at me," Lexington said. "But he fell when trying to escape us. I think he's suffering from amnesia."

"And I think that's a bunch of bull," Brooklyn grunted.

"Anyways," Goliath butted in. "We don't want to let him go while he could still be a danger to us and others. Could you watch him during the day?"

Elisa shook her head immediately and said, "No can do Goliath. I've got way too much on my plate already. If want, I could lock him up in the jail for unlawful discharge of a firearm."

Brooklyn smiled and said, "I like that idea. In fact, maybe you should put him in Rikers."

Lexington shook his head and said, "No, I don't want anything done like that. Can't you find the time to keep an eye on him?"

"I'd love to guys, but the Blood Roses are getting more bold in their gang attacks, " Elisa said. "Chavez has assigned me as led Detective in dealing with them."

Fifty looked around as the creatures and Elisa began to argue again. It was over the same thing as before: what should be done with poor old Fifty. Once again, none of them felt like asking him what he thought. They just pretended he didn't exist. Anger and contempt began to cloud Fifty's judgment as he felt his heart rate increase and his adrenaline begin to pump. With this boiling of anger and contempt, Fifty felt his mind begin to fade out of control of his body. As he was pulled back from consciousness, he saw a black figure dash into the empty hole of thought and control where he had once been. He suddenly found himself watching his own life from a third person view point. The thing in control was obviously not Fifty.

"Just look at the kid," Brooklyn commented. "Hell, he doesn't even look like a Human with those eye's and scars."

Exploding like a volcano, Fifty watched as he said, "How dare you say that to me you filthy inbred monster! How dare any of you think you can control me!"

Everyone stopped talking. They were completely dumbfounded as to why Fifty had said that. Fifty saw as his bodies eyes began to glow a brighter blue and noticed his muscles bulge. Whatever had taken control of his mind, Fifty knew it was going to do something stupid. He knew that he had to regain control before anything else happened.

Reaching into the darkness, Fifty grabbed onto the collar of someone and began to tug at them, trying to pull them out of the darkness. Whatever was on the other side was resilient and didn't want to give up control. Fifty clenched his knuckles tight as pulled with all of his might. A clawed hand shot out of the darkness and grabbed onto Fifty's face, trying to push him away. It's claws dug into Fifty's face as he was finally able to pull out the same man from his visions. The red eyes stared back at Fifty, filled with hatred and anger.

_YOU FOOL, _it yelled as Fifty threw it behind him and rushed back into control of his body, blocking the man.

Goliath walked up to Fifty, who was kneeling on the ground clutching his forehead. He placed his large hand on Fifty's shoulder and said, "I apologize for any distress we have caused you. It was wrong of us to think we can decide your fate without your input and consent."

"No," Fifty shook his head, "I'm sorry. I-I just don't know what came over me."

Goliath nodded in understanding and then turned to Elisa, "Elisa, as a friend, I am asking you to watch over- what was your name?"

"Fifty," Fifty replied.

"Please watch over Fifty. I know you will find a way to make it work," Goliath concluded.

Elisa sighed and said, "Okay. But you owe me one Goliath."

Golden rays of sunlight began to flood in through the clock tower faces, which had dimmed to a normal color. Before his eyes, Fifty saw the entire lot of creatures freeze in place and turn to stone statues.

"What the hell," Fifty exclaimed.

Elisa chuckled at his astonishment and said, "Gargoyles turn to stone during the day."

"Gargoyles," Fifty said in awe. "So the rumors are true about them?"

Elisa nodded, prompting fifty to ask, "Well where did they come from? How many are there? Who else knows?"

"Goliath will explain everything to you tonight," Elisa chuckled. "Now come on, we need to think up a cover for you."

As Fifty continued to stare at the stone statues that were once living and breathing creatures, he noticed Elisa turn back towards the entrance to the clock tower. Tucked between her armpit and body, Fifty notice a pistol grip. Time seemed to slow down as Fifty stared at the pistol, which drew in hi attention.

_Attack her,_ the man ordered from within his sub conscious. _Take the gun and shoot the Gargoyles_.

_What, _Fifty thought. _No, I won't. Why would I do that?_

_Because we need to do it, _the man stressed. _Now...do it._

_No_, Fifty said.

The man growled in anger and said _Mark my words, we will kill those creatures, whether it be by your hand or with my...assistance_.

"Fifty, you coming," Elisa asked.

Snapping out of his daze, Fifty nodded and walked down the steps that led into the building the clock tower was located on.

**God this chapter took a while. I wanted it to be perfect, considering it introduced our favorite Gargoyles. Review, favorite, and follow!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Gargoyles. It belongs to Disney and Greg Weisman. I only own my OC and the plot.**


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The small staircase led into a janitors closet. Elisa had climbed down first and was waiting for Fifty at the bottom of it. When Fifty had exited the clock tower, Elisa bent down and lifted the stair case back up into place, blocking off any entrance into the clock tower.

"Where exactly are we Elisa," Fifty asked as he looked around the janitor's closet.

Dusting off her hands, Elisa said, "Above the 23rd Precinct."

_Hiding in plain sight, _the man chuckled. _Clever little beasts._

_ Shut up, _Fifty exclaimed.

"Fifty," Elisa snapped, seeing that he wasn't paying any attention.

Fifty turned towards Elisa and said, "Sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was saying that we need a plan, a cover story as to why you will be with me during the day," Elisa explained. "You're a college student right?"

"I was," Fifty asked, confused as to what she said.

_Oh right, amnesia,_ Elisa thought. "Well here's what I was thinking. You're a Criminal Justice major looking to see what it's like to be a Detective."

Fifty nodded and said, "Sounds good Elisa."

Glad that Fifty agreed, Elisa turned the handle on the door and walked out of the closet, followed by Fifty. The hallway they entered into had a beige color on the walls a white tile floor. It was well lit, with tube lights on evenly spaced ceiling panels. Following behind Elisa, they turned right and headed down the hall, almost immediately running into Chief of Detectives Maria Chavez.

Chavez, noticing Elisa's friend, asked, "Who's this Elisa?"

Realizing that Fifty's name might sound a bit strange, he stretched out his hand and said, "Chad Jäger ma'am."

Chavez shook Fifty's hand and said, "Pleased to meet you Mr. Jäger. May I ask why you are here?"

"Detective Maza was just showing me around ma'am," Fifty replied.

"Chad here is a Criminal Justice major at NYU. He asked if he could shadow me as a part of an extra credit assignment," Elisa explained. "I was just bringing him to you."

"Well," Chavez said, "If Elisa agreed to it, then I'm perfectly fine with it. There's a few consent and liability forms that you'll need to sign Mr. Jäger, but you can do that later. Maza, I need you to go patrol around the Central Park area. We've been getting reports of increased Blood Rose activity in that area. We don't want any more citizens getting mugged or worse."

"Is Matt coming," Elisa asked.

"Not this time," Chavez said. "Bluestone's taking the week off to tend to some personal matters. It will be just you and Mr. Jäger."

Sighing, Elisa said, "I'll get right on it Chief. Let's get going Chad."

Fifty and Elisa walked past Chavez, continuing down the hallway until they came to a set of three elevators. Pressing the call button, the middle elevator opened up, prompting Fifty and Elisa to climb in. Fifty pressed the ground floor button and then stood back against the wall. As he leaned up against it, he noticed Elisa staring at him, giving him a sort of death stare. She then moved close to Fifty and pushed her finger against his chest.

"Alright Fifty, tell me the truth as to why you shot at Lexington and Goliath," she scorned.

Fifty shoved her back gently and said, "I didn't do anything like that. How many times am I going to have to say it?"

"I know you're hiding something," she said. "I'll stop asking about it, but you can be damned sure I'm not dropping at it. Shooting at them is like shooting at me. And I can assure you, if you try anything like that again, I'll make sure you'll pay."

Fifty could sense the sincerity and severity in Elisa's tone. He gulped and slowly nodded in compliance. She smiled and then turned back towards the elevator door, her arms crossed. Getting off the wall, Fifty looked at Elisa.

"Listen, I know you don't want me to be with you. Frankly, I can't blame you," Fifty said. "If what Goliath said was true, then I might be too dangerous to even be staying around you or the Gargoyles. I might even be a danger to myself."

Elisa's demeanor changed when Fifty said that. She moved from a more hostile mood to one of understanding and sympathy. Turning away from the elevator door, she stared into Fifty's eyes.

"Is everything okay," she asked, sincerely interested.

_Tell her nothing except for what she wants to here,_ the man ordered.

"Everything's fine," Fifty replied, his voice cracking slightly.

The elevator door opened up, but not on the ground floor. Instead, it opened up to a room filled with cubicles and walled off office areas. Standing in front of the open door was a black NYPD officer with a mustache occupying his upper lip.

"Morning Detective," he yawned. "Who's your friend?"

"Morgan, this is Chad Jäger. Chad, this is Officer Morgan," Elisa introduced.

Fifty nodded to Morgan and then turned back towards Elisa.

Sensing something was going on between the two, Morgan said, "I'll take the next one."

The elevator door closed again and continued climbing down to the ground floor. Fifty and Elisa sat in it quietly, both of them staring at each other. The air between them was ripe with awkwardness.

Clearing his throat, Fifty asked, "So who are the Blood Roses anyhow?"

"The Blood Roses are a surfacing gang that came out of the Harlem area. Over the past few months, they've been moving into the other districts, taking up root in Midtown," Elisa explained.

"Wait, are they those guys who wear the red bandana's and those leather jackets with the bleeding roses," Fifty asked as the elevator stopped moving.

Elisa nodded as the doors opened.

"I've seen those guys around town while free running. I've even had a couple run ins with them," Fifty explained as he and Elisa walked out of the elevator and into the main reception area of the 23rd Precinct building. "What exactly have they done?"

"Normal gang related stuff," she said vaguely. "Mostly drug trafficking and muggings. We have been receiving reports that they've moved onto more serious offenses, such as gun trafficking."

The elevator doors opened up to the ground floor, which was occupied by a reception area. Fifty and Elisa walked out of the elevator, passing by the receptionists desk. A few people sat in the three rows of chairs that occupied the rest of the room. They both briskly walked past the other people and out of a set of double glass doors.

"By the way," Elisa said as she walked down the small flight of stairs that led into the building, "If we run into any sort of trouble, I don't want you to interfere."

"Well what if you need help," Fifty protested as Elisa walked around to the driver side of her Ford Fairlane. "I might be a free runner, but that doesn't mean I shy away from a fight."

Elisa unlocked the doors to the car and climbed in, followed by Fifty. She pushed the key into the ignition and said, "Don't worry. I can handle myself out there. Besides, I'd be in a whole heap of trouble if you got hurt."

Fifty smirked and crossed his arms in disappointment. Shifting the car into drive, Elisa maneuvered the car out of its parking spot and into the hectic New York traffic, heading towards Midtown.

* * *

The sun was at its highest in the sky now. For a December day, it was rather warm outside; the temperature was in the upper 50s rather than in the lower 20s. Central Park was live with activity.

Fifty and Elisa had been patrolling the Midtown and Financial areas ever since dawn as per instruction by Captain Chavez. Too much of their dismay, it has been a rather uneventful and quite morning. They haven't even spoken to each other much, at most commenting on the weather.

However, while sitting in this awkward silence, Fifty been able to think about his current situation, both his physical and mental one. Physically, he was being held hostage by an NYPD Detective and a group of nocturnal monsters. In all honesty, his physical situation was pretty straight forward. It was his mental situation that was giving him the most grief.

Ever since getting hit with that brick and falling onto that roof, he's been experiencing random headaches and memory loss. Fifty used to be able to recount his whole life, from growing up in the Tennessee suburb to coming to New York City. Now everything felt like a word search, with him searching for the bits and pieces that have become lost. This not only scares Fifty, it makes him angry. He's now starting to question if what he remembered previously actually happened.

Then there's this man. The man, at least Fifty thinks, is some sort of conscious of him. It is some mental representation of another side of himself. This side also seems to have one purpose: killing the Gargoyles. Once again, this scares and fills Fifty with anger. Why would some part of him want to do away with those creatures even though they only met a few hours ago?

Fifty stared out of the window of the car, staring at the bustle of the crowd and the buildings as they rolled by him and Elisa. It was very obvious that he was deep in thought. Noticing that Fifty had been staring out of the window for most of the time they've been patrolling, Elisa pulled the car over, parking in front of a row of Brownstone buildings across from Central Park.

"What's wrong," she asked. "You seem bored."

Fifty snapped out of his daze and said quickly, "What? Oh- I was just thinking about stuff."

"Let me take a guess, you've been thinking about the Gargoyles," she asked.

"Partially," Fifty replied, his gaze turning back towards the window.

Elisa sensed she wouldn't get that many answers from him at this point. Grasping the key, she turned it towards her body, shutting off the engine.

"Come on," she said with a smile, "Let's go get something to eat. There's a nice restaurant a couple blocks from here."

Elisa opened her door, climbing out of the car. Following her, Fifty did the same as well and stepped onto the sidewalk. While it felt good to be out of the car, Fifty's mind still dwelled on his situation. He walked through the crowd almost like a machine, pushing past people and following Elisa without any deviation. The man inside his head and remained quiet for most of the time. Fifty could still feel his presence, but it was a lot more subtle.

As they walked down the sidewalk, Elisa noticed a group of Blood Roses up ahead following someone. She moved off to the side of the crowd and looked at the gang members. Members of the Blood Roses are very easy to pick out of a crowd. Many of them wear red bandanas on some part of their body, the most popular being tied around their arm. It is assumed that the higher ranking ones wear the custom made leather jackets with the two bleeding roses on the back.

Standing off to the side, Elisa was able to get a better assessment of the situation. Fifty was also looking in the same direction as well. There was about five Blood Rose members. One of them had the leather jacket on while the others only had the red bandanas. The girl they were following wasn't your average New Yorker either. She stood out in a crowd, almost as much as a Blood Rose. This girl wore a pair of dark grey colored cargo pants. The pants were tucked into a pair of black combat boots. Fifty couldn't get a good look at her shirt, but he was able to see a blazer, much like Elisa's but colored black, occupying her upper body. Her face was also hidden, but Fifty could see her creamy chocolate brown hair tied up into a pony tail.

_You hound dog,_ the man mocked_, You've only just seen this woman and you've already started developing feelings for her._

Fifty shoved the man back down as he continued to stare at the girl. He noticed that the group of Blood Rose men had moved up on the girl, shoving her into an adjacent alley. Fifty suddenly became enraged and worried for the girls safety. Thinking more on his emotions rather than common sense, Fifty moved back into the crowded sidewalk and approached the alley, moving at a brisk pace.

For the first time, the man actually became worried about what Fifty was doing.

_Think about what you are doing_, he protested as Fifty came closer to the alley. _It's you versus five men! You can't win this._

_ Five men is nothing compared to the six Gargoyles you so desperately want me to exterminate,_ Fifty retorted.

_Touché,_ the man growled.

Elisa cursed under her breath and ran after Fifty.

"Fifty, what are you doing," she asked, walking at Fifty's left side.

"That girl is in danger," Fifty said, still maintaining his brisk pace towards the alley. "She needs our help."

"Just let me handle this," Elisa ordered.

Fifty shook his head and said, "You're not going in alone either. We'll handle this together."

Elisa's face lit up in surprise. She then nodded as they walked around the corner of alley.

Standing in the alley, Fifty and Elisa saw the group of five men standing in the alley. Two of them had the girl pinned up against, each of them with rather long kitchen knives in their hands. The other two seemed to be playing lookout, although they were rather nonchalant about it. The final one, the man with the jacket, had a gun in his right hand and was standing looking at the girl.

"Yo boss," one of the lookouts shouted. "We's got ourselves a couple o' snoopers."

The jacket man turned towards Elisa and Fifty and said, "How 'bout you two just run along and leave us to our business."

Elisa shook her head, "I'm afraid we can't do that."

She pulled out her badge and gun and pointed it at the man wearing the jacket.

"Let the girl go and come quietly," she ordered.

The group of men chuckled.

"Oh you think this is funny," Fifty growled. "How about this. If you don't let the girl go, then I'll be forced to pull your spines out of your ass."

"You talk a lot of smack for a freak with scars and blue eyes," one of the knife wielding men said in an Italian accent.

Fifty clenched his fist. He felt his heart begin to sped up as he stared down the group of men. He wanted so bad to charge them, but Elisa stopped him by moving forward with her gun raised.

"Last warning gentlemen. Drop your weapons and come quietly," she ordered, her voice carrying a great sense of force and confidence.

The girl, who was still pinned up against the wall, decided to make her move. With quick and decisive speed, she used her right hand to jab the man to her left in his throat. He kneeled over, gasping for breath, as the girl tried to wrestle a knife from the other man. However, this other man was too strong for her. He easily kneed her in the stomach and tossed her into the wall, dazing the girl.

Elisa raised her weapon on the gun wielding man and was about to pull the trigger, but one of the lookouts took action. He slammed into her, knocking the gun out of Elisa's hand and knocking her to the ground. The lookout then punched Elisa square in the jaw, dazing her as well.

Fifty stared blankly at the group of men as his anger began to bubble even more than before. His eye's began to glow bright as he gritted his teeth and stared down at the men, who began to crowd into a group around the gun wielding Blood Rose.

"Now here's your last chance bub," the gun wielder said. "Leave now, or die."

Clenching his fist, Fifty turned away from the group and began to walk away. The men broke out into hysterical laughter as they watched Fifty slowly walk away from them. However, Fifty turned back towards them and charged the group. He was able to catch them off guard, which gave the boy an initial advantage. He slammed into the group of men, knocking them back. Fifty then entered into a ready stance, his fists raised high.

"Stupid boy," one of the lookouts yelled. This lookout had a small butterfly knife and he used it to charge Fifty.

However, Fifty was ready for him. The lookout had the knife stretched out in hopes of skewering Fifty from afar. But this just made it easier to grab. With a certain grace, Fifty was able to grab the lookout's arm and twist it around his back. Fifty was able to force the man on his knees. He placed his foot right up against the lookouts back and began to push him down further while pulling on his arm. A popping sound echoed through the alley, confirming that the lookout had just had his arm popped straight out of its socket. Not satisfied with this, Fifty still pushed and pulled on the lookout, hoping to milk every ounce of pain from him.

The other lookout crept up on Fifty from behind. In his hand he wielded a rather large lead pipe with a blunt curve on the end of it. While Fifty still had the lookout in the submissive position, this other lookout let out a scream before swinging the pipe straight into Fifty's vertebrate, hitting the still tender and bruised wound from the brick. Fifty gasped in pain as he fell over to his left, ending up lying next to the lookout with the dislocated arm.

Pain shot throughout Fifty's body as he laid on the ground, his face implanted on the muddy floor of the alley. The lead pipe wielding lookout stood over Fifty and continued to wail on Fifty's back. Each blow carried more and more force, causing Fifty to yelp and cry with each blow. With all of his strength, the lookout brought back the lead pipe and slammed it down onto Fifty's back. This final blow was the most painful. However, something came with this final blow. Though it was the most painful, the pain had caused something to click in Fifty's subconscious. It was some sort of previously unused well of strength that Fifty had never even realized was there. At the front of this surge of new found strength, Fifty felt the man come with it. However, unlike other times, the man wasn't trying to gain control or influence Fifty. Instead, he seemed to merge with Fifty, which helped them both to control this new found strength.

The lookout brought his lead pipe down for another strike. The pipe was only inches away from landing it's mark before Fifty reached up his right hand, grabbing the pipe in mid swing. He lifted his face out of the mud and stared at the lookout. His blue eyes were now tainted with a blood red pupil. Letting out a literal growl, Fifty clenched his fist, bending the lead pipe without breaking a sweet. As he bent the pipe, Fifty rose up from the ground, his red and blue eyes staring down at the lookout. Fifty released his grip on the lead pipe and then thrust his left palm into the lookout's chest. This sent the lookout flying into the knife wielding Blood Rose, who had had his throat jabbed, and then sent them both into a nearby dumpster. They both were knocked out on impact and broke a few bones as well.

Now that those two were dispatched, Fifty turned his rage filled gaze onto the other knife wielding Blood Rose, who stood next to the gun wielding one. Both of them had looks of shock on their face. The gun wieldier turned towards the other Blood Rose and ordered him to charge Fifty. Reluctantly, the knife wielder obeyed the order and charged Fifty, his knife raised into a stabbing position. Before the knife was able to be thrust into Fifty's body, the rage filled boy grabbed this Blood Rose member by the throat with his right hand. Using his new found strength, Fifty lifted the man up well above his own head. With a demented sort of smile, Fifty squeezed his right hand, slowly crushing the man's trachea and neck. The man was nearly passed out from lack of air before Fifty released is grip by slamming the man into the closest wall possible. Fifty watched the man slide to the ground, his throat bruised purple.

"Say goodnight freak," the gun wielder exclaimed as he aimed his firearm directly at Fifty.

The final standing man pulled the trigger on the pistol, sending a round flying towards Fifty's head. Without even looking directly at the final man, Fifty moved his head out of the path of the bullet with inhuman speed and agility. Elisa was just getting up when she saw what Fifty had done. Her face was plastered in astonishment as well as the final man's. In real time, it had appeared that Fifty had moved extremely fast. But for Fifty, everything seemed to move in slow motion when he had dodged the bullet. His perception of time was slowed at the exact right moment for him to be able to see the bullet and move out of its path.

As the crowds on the street screamed from the gunshot, the final man was dumbstruck as he watched Fifty turn towards him. Fifty smiled as he began to walk towards the final man, his rage filled gaze piercing the man's soul. A look of pure terror filled the final man's face as he fired off the rest of the rounds in his magazine. Just like the first bullet though, Fifty was able to dodge them all with extreme ease. The final man was so terrified that when the magazine ran empty, he continued to pull the trigger, expecting bullets to still come out. However, all he was met with was the clicking sound of an empty gun.

Tiring of this exercise, Fifty lunged at the final man, his right fist outstretched. His fist slammed into the final man's sternum, shattering it completely. With the sternum shattered, several of its fragments punctured the final man's heart. He flew back from the force of Fifty's punch, landing on the back of his head, cracking his skull. The final man was very much dead and was lying on the muddy ground, blood seeping from his mouth and the back of his head.

Elisa, who was now fully aware of what had just happened, sat up from the ground and ran over to the dead man's corpse. She placed her index and middle finger below the man's right ear and listened for a pulse. As she suspected, there wasn't any. Elisa turned towards Fifty and stared into his eyes. The pupil had returned to its normal coloration and his glow, while still bright, had dimmed slightly.

Dumbfounded on what to say, Elisa asked, "Fifty, can you check on the girl while I call this in?"

Fifty was back to his normal self. However, his entire body felt weak. He raised his hands and held them open in front of his eyes, staring into his palms. His face carried no emotion or expression on it. It was as blank as the dead man's.

"Fifty," Elisa called out again.

"Wha-oh, sure," Fifty replied, snapping out of his mood.

He clenched his hands and placed them back to his side before walking over to the girl, who was still dazed. This was the first time Fifty was able to get a clear picture of the girl's face. Her skin was a creamy vanilla white with hints of rosy red cheeks. Her lips were a warm and soothing red, much like that of a rose. This girl had long and delicate looking eyelashes that batted as she slowly opened her eyes, revealing a cool green. She looked like a delicate little flower, but Fifty could tell that she was strong, much like Elisa.

"Are you hurt," Fifty asked as the girl slowly lifted up her head.

The girl, with her eyes completely open, stared straight into Fifty's face. At first, she was shocked at the amount of scars he had. However, something about his glowing blue eyes pulled her in, comforting her and blocking out everything else.

"I-I'm fine," she said. "I'm Jessica."

Fifty smiled and rambled, "That's a lovely name. I'm Fifty, but if you don't want to call me that, you can call me Chad Jäger. Whatever you'd like. I don't even know my real name but that doesn't really ma-" Jessica placed a finger over Fifty's lip.

"I like Fifty," she chuckled. "It's a unique and cool name."

"Uh-Yea-Sure," Fifty stumbled over his words.

Fifty got back up from his kneeling position and stretched out a hand for Jessica. With a smile, she took his hand and he lifted her up. Police sirens began to fill the air, causing both of them to turn their heads towards the street. They saw two squad cars and an ambulance pull up in front of the alley.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble for you," Jessica said as the officers and EMT's ran into the alley, "I'd like to buy you dinner tonight."

"Well-uh-sure. That'd be-uh-fantastic," Fifty smiled.

"Awesome. There's a nice Pizza parlor directly on Time's Square. You can't miss it," Jessica explained. "Does 8:00 Work for you?"

Fifty nodded his head, not knowing what else to do.

"Great," Jessica smiled. "See ya then."

As she walked away from Fifty towards a group of police officers, she stroked Fifty's check with her hand, running it over his scars. Fifty watched as she stood talking to the officers, his eyes not only looking on her, but past her. His eyes looked into a new future that had just opened up for him; a new future filled with hope.

**Sorry this took so long to finish. But here it is!**

**DISCLAIMER: Don't own any of Gargoyles. I only own my OC's and the plot.**


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Let me help," Fifty said.

He moved in front of Elisa, who was recovering from the minor injuries she had sustained in the fight. The doctors at Manhattan General said the damage wasn't too severe. Most of it was external and wouldn't cause any long term damage, aside from a few blemishes. However, they did suggest to take it easy for the next few days.

Reaching up to the ceiling, Fifty grasped a small cord that was attached to the staircase and pulled down. The step-ladder like stairs creaked open, extending out from it collapsed form and rested itself on the tile floor of the closet.

"Do you need help climbing up," Fifty asked.

"I'm not crippled, Fifty," Elisa protested. "I can manage."

Fifty backed off as he watched Elisa slowly ascend each step. He could sense her struggling as she neared the top, but Fifty knew she wanted to do it yourself. Fifty followed behind Elisa, climbing up the steps much quicker than her. His back wound, while still present, didn't hurt as much as it used to.

Stepping up into the clock tower, Fifty's eyes were bombarded with the golden rays of the setting sun. The sun, while low in the sky, still bathed the clock tower with its golden rays and soothing warmth. Fifty looked at one of the clock faces, noting that it was 6:40 PM. He had about an hour or so before he was going out to meet Jessica.

_You know they won't let you leave, _the man said nonchalantly. _And what will you do then?_

_ You have no idea what you're talking about, _Fifty cursed the voice. _I'll find a way._

_ Without a doubt,_ the man smirked.

"Do you want something to drink," Elisa asked as she opened the fridge.

Fifty shook his head and said, "No thanks. I'm fine."

He turned his gaze towards the Gargoyles, who were still locked in their stone sleep. Elisa watched out of the corner of her eyes as she saw Fifty walk over to the Gargoyles. She pulled out a coke and closed the fridge, looking at Fifty as he placed a hand on the stone shoulder of Goliath.

"So where'd ya learn to fight Fifty," Elisa asked as she popped off the cap of the coke.

Fifty removed his hand from Goliath's shoulder and said, "I've never learned."

"Well then how'd you take on five guys all by yourself," she inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"I-I don't know," Fifty stuttered. "When I was down on the ground, something clicked inside of me, some sort of...primal rage or something. It was strange. It almost felt natural-like I've done it before."

Pausing, Fifty looked at his hands, which were slightly bruised from the fight.

"And-I-I killed a man," he said softly. "And the strange part is, I don't feel remorseful about it. It almost felt...good to kill."

Elisa began to feel uneasy, sweat beading on her forehead as she heard Fifty explain what happened. It was obvious to her that he something about Fifty was unstable, whether it be his physical or mental state. She didn't know what to do, but she did know that Goliath needed to hear about this.

As Fifty fell silent, the final rays of golden sunshine shown through the upper windows of the clock tower before the city was incased in night again. The clock faces lit up, illuminating the interior of the clock tower. In sync with the setting sun, the stone forums of the Gargoyles began to crack and break. The cracks spider webbed through the stone as the creatures moved slowly. Almost in complete unison, the Gargoyles burst out of their stone sleep, roaring to the high heavens as stone skin flew in all directions.

Bronx was the first one to take notice of Fifty, immediately bounding over to him. The large gargoyle beast tackled Fifty, licking him with his sand paper like tongue and covering him with thick saliva.

"Agh," Fifty chuckled. "Get off me!"

To his surprise, Bronx climbed off Fifty, allowing him to stand up and continue to pet Bronx. The other Gargoyles finished stretching before looking over at Fifty and Elisa.

"Good evening boys," Elisa smiled.

"Greetings Elisa," Goliath said warmly. "I trust your day was exci-you're injured!"

Goliath immediately rushed over to Elisa and lightly touched the bruises on her face.

"What happened," he asked.

"A couple good for nothin' hoodlums jumped a young woman. Me and Elisa intervened, but Elisa was knocked out by one of the thugs," Fifty explained. "I was able to fend them off though."

Goliath turned from Fifty and back to Elisa.

"Is this true," he asked, astounded by what Fifty had said.

Elisa nodded and said, "Yup. Fifty was a real hero today. And a pretty good fighter."

"Wow, five guys by yourself," Broadway smiled, walking over to Fifty and Bronx. "How'd ya do it?"

Lexington followed Broadway, sitting down in a little circle near Fifty so they could hear what happened. Broadway followed, however he leaned up against the main mechanism of the clock tower, partially listening to Fifty.

"Yea, tell us everything," Lexington said.

Fifty chuckled and said, "Well, if you guys insist."

As Fifty began to recount what happened, Elisa looked back at Goliath, her eyes showing a sense of urgency.

"I need to talk to you-alone," she said, her voice shifting from happy to stern.

Goliath's facial expression also changed as he said, "What's the matter?"

"It's something concerning Fifty," she said in a low voice. "Something that can't be discussed here."

Nodding in understanding, Goliath turned towards Hudson, who was standing close by, listening to Fifty as he described his sudden surge of strength.

In a low whisper, Goliath said, "Elisa needs to talk to me about something involving Fifty. I shall be taking her back to her apartment. Keep an eye on Fifty. Do not let him leave the clock tower until I return."

Hudson nodded.

Clearing his throat and interrupting Fifty's story, he said, "I shall be escorting Elisa back to her apartment. I want all of you be on your best behavior. Hudson's in charge until I return."

As Goliath headed out onto the balcony, he turned his gaze onto Fifty, glaring at him. The Gargoyle's gaze looked straight into Fifty's mind, warning him not to try anything funny. Fifty turned away from Goliath and back towards Elisa, who was heading down the stair case. She also gave him the same look as Goliath.

"So you were on the final guy," Broadway said, reminding Fifty of where he was with the story.

Turing back to Lexington and Broadway, Fifty resumed the story, "Oh yeah. Well I was on the last guy, and he was the one with a gun. As I stared him down, he pulled the trigger, but I-I-well-he was a bad shot and was trembling so much that he missed, allowing me to disarm him. With him in my grasps, I-I uh-I punched him straight in the face, knocking him out."

"Wow," Lexington said, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

"Pfft, big deal," Brooklyn scoffed. "We've taken on worse guys than a couple of thugs."

"Like whom," Fifty asked, stroking Bronx's head lightly.

Brooklyn smirked and said, "Wouldn't you like to know."

Frowning, Fifty turned to Hudson, who had remained silent since he had woken up.

"You're Hudson, right," Fifty asked.

"Aye laddy, like the river," he replied.

Fifty chuckled and said, "Maybe you can tell me who you guys have fought."

Laughing slightly, Hudson said, "Anyone who threatens us or our city."

"Your city," Fifty asked. "What do you mean by that."

"We Gargoyles are born to protect our home," Broadway said proudly. "And Manhattan is our home. So it's our nature to protect it and everyone in it."

"So you guys are kinda like the Avengers," Fifty asked.

Lexington, being more into comic books than the others, said, "Not as cool as the Avengers, but we get the job down. I do wish we had some of that power armor like Iron Man. It would make protecting a lot easier."

Fifty laughed and then asked, "How'd you even come to protecting Manhattan? I don't remember hearing about you guys until late '94."

"You don't seem to remember a lot of things," Brooklyn stated, making another wise crack.

Fed up with his wise cracks, Fifty stood up from the stone floor and asked, "Excuse me mister high and mighty, but do you have a problem with me?"

Standing up straight, Brooklyn stared Fifty in the eyes and said, "Apparently everyone's forgotten that you shot Lexington last night. So yes, I do have a problem with you."

"You need to learn to let things go Brooklyn," Fifty said sternly. "I can already tell you have serious issues with that."

Brooklyn growled, his eyes changing from their normal coloration to a glowing white. He clenched his fists as he barred his teeth. With lightning fast speed, Brooklyn slammed his right fist into Fifty's jaw, knocking him back a few steps. Being hit by Brooklyn caused Fifty's eyes to glow a brighter blue. His pupils also gained the same red coloration as he felt the strange strength surge through him once more.

Turning back towards Brooklyn, Fifty spat out some blood before lunging at him. However, Broadway stepped in front of Fifty, blocking him from landing any blows on the red Gargoyle.

Thrashing as Broadway took hold of Fifty's arms, he yelled, "Let go of me! That son of a bitch needs to be taught a lesson!"

Brooklyn chuckled as he watched Fifty thrash in Broadways arms. However, when he looked behind him, Brooklyn saw both Lexington and Hudson staring at him. They were both shaking their heads out of disappointment.

"What," Brooklyn asked. "He asked for it."

"Even so lad, that doesn't give you the right to attack someone out right," Hudson stated. "A good leader knows when to use force and when to be gentle."

"Besides," Lexington said as he removed the white bandages from his shoulder, revealing only a small scar where the bullet hole had been, "I'm not holding any grudges against him."

His face plastered with shock, Brooklyn asked, "He could've killed you Lex! He's no different from the Pack or any other human who's tried to harm us!"

Closing his eyes, Lexington said, "I can't hold a grudge against someone who can't remember doing the deed. It's better for me to move past it."

Fifty was finally able to shake Broadway free, but he was calmer; the glow in his eyes had subsided, returning them to their normal coloration. Broadway patted him on the back before they both turned towards Brooklyn.

"Maybe you've let it go, but I can't," Brooklyn growled. "This punk right here has tried to harm one of my brothers! I can't let something like that go."

Hudson sighed and said, "You're sounding a lot like Demona lad."

His eyes widened in shock, Brooklyn was about to say something, but he cursed under his breath and walked towards the steps that led up to the clock face.

"Wait, Brooklyn," Fifty exclaimed, wanting to apologize to the red Gargoyle.

However, Brooklyn flexed his wings before walking out of the clock tower and into the night, making the excuse that he was going out for patrol. Fifty cursed aloud as he sat back down on the ground. Waddling over to him, Bronx rested his head on Fifty's lap, whimpering with sympathy.

"Don't let him get to you lad," Hudson comforted. "Brooklyn, as second in command, cares a lot for his Rookery Brothers."

"Besides, he's always been that hard headed," Broadway chuckled. "He'll warm up to you eventually."

Huffing loudly, Fifty sat up, looking back over to one of the clock faces. It was now a little past seven, leaving him almost an hour before he had to go meet Jessica. He also still had to figure out a way to sneak out of here without causing much conflict.

Fifty walked over to the ratty old recliner that was sitting in front of the TV. Rather than sitting on it, he leaned up against it, still facing the Gargoyles.

"You said Rookery Brothers, what does that mean," Fifty inquired, wanting to get to know his friends/wardens a little better.

"Funny, until now we've never had to explain what it means," Lexington stated. "Well, Gargoyles aren't born knowing who their parents are, so we tend to call everyone in our Rookery Generation Rookery Brother or Sister. We call the parents Rookery Mother or Father."

"Me, Lexington, and Broadway are all that's left of our Rookery Generation. The same with Hudson. Goliath has one other Rookery Sister out there, but we don't talk about her," Broadway explained.

"So where is this Rookery Sister," Fifty asked. "I haven't seen any females around here. And where's the rest of your guys Rookery Gargoyles? Why aren't they here?"

The three Gargoyles and even Bronx let out a collective sigh at the mention of the other Gargoyles.

"Well lad, we're all over a thousand years old," Hudson stated.

"WHAT," Fifty exclaimed rather loudly, his voice echoing through the clock tower. "Gargoyles live that long!?"

Laughing, Lexington said, "We don't live that long. It's a long story though."

"Go ahead," Fifty said, "Not like I have anything better to do at the moment."

On that note, Hudson began to tell their story of how they arrived in Manhattan. He went as far back to 997 AD, the year when they were betrayed by the Captain of the Guard at Castle Wyvern. Fifty listened intently as Hudson recounted arriving back to find most of the clan decimated, with only Lexington, Bronx, Brooklyn, and Broadway surviving. After explaining how and why the Magus, Castle Wyvern's resident sorcerer, cast the spell that turned them to stone for the thousand years, Hudson then said who had brought them over to Manhattan.

David Xanatos. The name, for some reason, caused Fifty's entire body to tense up, his eyes locked in a thousand mile stare. While on the outside it looked like Fifty was frozen, his mind was racing with activity. Strange images long discarded poured out of the dark recesses of Fifty's mind, each one with a common item: a burning red X and men in white lab coats. One of the more prominent ones had Fifty feeling like he was in suspended animation. A thick, warm, and clear liquid surrounded him. Moving his head was very hard, but it was possible. Encasing the liquid was a thick metal tube, reminding Fifty of a test tube. As he peered through the thick wall of glass, Fifty could see a group of men, each one in white lab coats. On their right breasts, each one had a red X, breathed in flame. It seemed to be burnt into their skin. The X glowed brightly, filling Fifty's body with fear.

"Laddy, are ye alright," Hudson called out, his voice seeming very distant to Fifty as he stared at these men.

Sensing something was fishy about Fifty's prolonged stare, Bronx waddled over to him and barked loudly. The bark ringed through Fifty's ears, breaking his concentration and sending the images flooding back into his subconscious.

Blinking for the first time in a few minutes, Fifty sat up from the recliner and said, "Wha-oh, sorry."

"You okay," Broadway asked. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

Shaking his head, Fifty said, "I'll be fine. So David Xanatos brought you over from Scotland, placed you a top his sky scrapper which broke the spell, and that's it? He didn't ask for anything in return?"

"Oh, he did," Hudson said, his voice carrying a level of disgust. "Xanatos tried to get us to do his dirty work. When we found out what he was really playing at, we left his fine estate. The lad has been trying to get rid of us ever since."

The further mentioning of David Xanatos brought out small flashes of the same memories, rattling Fifty's mind as he tried to focus on the Gargoyles.

"You look hungry," Broadway said, taking note of Fifty's odd behavior and overall pale appearance, "Do you want some breakfast?"

Fifty shook his head again.

"Really, I'm fine. I'm just going to go out and get some air."

"Let me come with you," Hudson stated, following behind Fifty.

"No," Fifty said suddenly. "Really, I just want to process all of this. Besides, it's not like I'm going to climb down this building and run off from you guys."

* * *

Snowflakes fell from the darkened sky as Goliath glided through the air. Elisa had taken her car back to her flat, leaving Goliath to glide over to it. He scanned the cityscape, his ears and senses ever alert for any sign of trouble. However, Manhattan was especially quite this night. While unsettling, it added a sense of peace to the night. It allowed him to enjoy the delicate snow shower.

Elisa's flat was straight ahead. Slowing his descent, Goliath stretched out his large and powerful legs, landing on the small ledge that was connected to a sky light. Forming his wings into a cape, Goliath peered through the glass, seeing that Elisa was in the kitchen. Gripping the latch, Goliath pulled it to his right, opening up the sky light. He stepped in, shaking off the few snowflakes that had gathered on his body.

"Thanks for coming Goliath," Elisa said as she stirred two mugs that were filled with hot chocolate. "You want some hot coco?"

Walking over to the kitchen, Goliath asked, "What is hot coco?"

"You've been here for a year and haven't tried hot coco," Elisa asked again.

"No, I have not," Goliath said, shaking his head. "But I'm sure Broadway has. What is it? Some sort of drink?"

Chuckling, Elisa handed him one of the mugs, which was large enough for him to fit three of his four talons through its handle. He sniffed the brown liquid curiously, the smell of chocolate filling his nostrils. With a little hesitation, he pressed his lips to the rim of the mug and took a tiny sip. As the warm liquid ran down his throat, Goliath's face lit up like a child who had just gotten a new toy. He immediately gulped down the rest of the hot chocolate before letting out a low burp.

"This was one of the most delicious drinks I've ever had," he said happily, setting the mug down on a nearby counter. "It's made me feel...warm inside."

"That's good," Elisa said, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. "That's the effect hot chocolate is meant to have. Makes you feel warm on cold winter nights."

Goliath smiled, looking at Elisa.

"So what did you need to talk to me about," Goliath asked, moving closer to Elisa.

Elisa sighed, setting down her hot chocolate.

"Well, like I said back in the clock tower, it concerns Fifty," Elisa explained, "and what happened today."

Goliath's expression changed, becoming concerned.

"What do you mean," he asked. "Did Fifty lie about what happened?"

Elisa shook her head, saying, "He told the truth. He just...glossed over some details."

"Like what," Goliath asked.

"He killed a man," Elisa said. "And he told me it felt good to kill him."

Goliath was taken a back after hearing this. He quietly closed his eyes, walking over to Elisa's couch and sitting down on it. Following him, Elisa sat down on the couch as well, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Did you tell the police this," he asked.

"I did," Elisa said. "Captain Chavez said it was in self defense, so no charges will be put on him. When the doctors took a look at him, they concluded that he had amnesia from the fall last night. However, they wanted to run some more tests on him tomorrow."

Goliath sighed and said, "Is that all?"

"Goliath, something is off about Fifty," Elisa stated. "He doesn't seem like a normal Human. Everything about him, the way he acts especially, is just unsettling. You should've seen him fight too. He moved like a robot or something, taking on five fully grown men with ease. He was even able to DODGE several bullets."

"Dodge," Goliath echoed in astonishment."

Elisa nodded and continued, "Dodged them completely. He moved so fast I couldn't even keep track of him. Goliath, I'm worried for everyone's safety with him around. What if he regains his memories and remembers why he tried to attack you guys. I'm worried for you Goliath."

Goliath placed his hand on Elisa's shoulder and said, "You have no reason to be worried Elisa. We can handle ourselves. And remember, I will always be there to protect you."

Elisa smiled as she touched Goliath's hand. She was about to continue talking when she heard the phone ring. Quickly, she sat up from the couch and picked up the phone, which was only a few steps away from where she was sitting.

"Hello," she said. "Woah woah Lex, slow down...Fifty...Gone...Okay, I'll tell Goliath and get right on it."

Hanging up the phone, Elisa turned towards Goliath and said, "Fifty's left the clock tower."

**Here we are, Chapter 6. Review and what not.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own _Gargoyles_. It is owned by Greg Weisman and Disney. I only own my OC and the plot of the story.**


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